


Morning Rituals

by misura



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 11:29:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4623699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dog always woke up first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Rituals

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HappyLeech](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyLeech/gifts).



Dog always woke up first.

He sometimes slept in his own basket, which had his name on it - or at least, it said 'DOG' in bright neon-green letters, which Brian had declared to be silly, given that everyone knew dogs couldn't read, "and anyway," he'd said, "how many people do _you_ know who've called their dogs 'Dog'?".

They'd all been quiet for a few seconds after that, pondering whether it would be more fun to argue about dog naming conventions than about the question if dogs were able to read, and then Adam had declared that, _of course_ , Dog was able to read. And so he was.

It wasn't much use to him, though, given that nobody seemed willing to lend them their comics and that the newspaper never seemed to have anything interesting in it.

Still, his basket was near the door, so first thing every morning, he dutifully fetched the newspaper and brought it to Wensleydale.

*

When Dog did not sleep, he _dreamt_.

This happened only on the Bed, though, and officially, he was Not Allowed on the Bed, even though he knew that sometimes, nobody really minded and anyway, rules were made to be broken.

(It said so, right on a little tile in the kitchen.)

*

Occasionally, when Dog brought him the newspaper, Wensleydale would wake up.

Occasionally, he didn't. Dog accepted this as one of those little mysteries life would throw at people every now and then, just to keep them from taking things for granted.

(The truth was very simply that all cats looked grey in the dark, and all humans, too, and so from time to time, Wensleydale was not Wensleydale but instead, for example, Brian, who only cared about the sports section, and then only when there had been a good game on the other night, and even then, there was no rush, was there, seeing as how the game'd been over hours and hours ago already.)

*

Dog was not a cat. He did not expect any human to feed him as soon as they'd woken up enough to walk around in a more of less convincing semblances of full awareness.

Likewise, he did not feel any human had the right to expect him not to bite them for not feeding him in a timely manner.

Fair was fair, after all. And, of course, he only bit them a little bit, just enough to let them know he was serious. Plus, he always wagged his tail at the same time, by way of saying _'I may be threatening you with grave physical injury, but that does not mean I do not also love and even respect you'_.

*

Brian yelped as he opened his eyes to a strange and out-of-proportion kind of world. He relaxed when he realized that the world had, in fact, not changed significantly in size - it was only that he was wearing Wensleydale's glasses. Again.

(The Them had enjoyed several spirited arguments about how, precisely, this phenomenon occurred.)

And then Pepper said, "What?" and Brian swallowed his next yelp just in time -

\- to get rudely shoved out of bed.

He knew better than to protest, of course. Besides, if he was quick, he might be able to make it to (and more importantly: out of) the bathroom before Pepper wanted her morning shower.

*

A quick word about the bed, or, if you wish, the Bed.

It was very big.

*

" - and I don't see why I always need to wait," said Pepper. "You should of just let me go first."

Pepper was not a morning person, really. None of the Them were, although (as Brian had said once, darkly) _some people_ were a lot less of a morning person than others.

"What, like a gentleman?" asked Brian, whose idea of a gentleman basically consisted of a man who held doors a lot and wore silly clothes, as well as an extra umbrella.

Pepper considered, then said, "Like someone who is not you." It was, she felt, perhaps not the best come-backs, but it would have to do. Besides, she'd already shoved him out of bed.

"But I _am_ me. So it's not very reas'nable, is it, to s'pect me to go acting like I wasn't."

It was, Brian thought, a rather brilliant argument.

He probably should have just kept his mouth shut; the pay-back was going to be really something.

*

Adam did not sleep in the Bed.

He might _look_ as if he were, and on most days, the Them were almost fooled into thinking that Adam was, in fact, sleeping and maybe even dreaming, just like every normal person.

They were partially right, too; Adam did dream in the Bed. Kind of.

Sometimes, he would have Dog with him, too. Usually, he'd be alone, though.

He knew the Them would probably come along if he asked them, if he explained what he was doing when he seemed to be sleeping, only ... well.

They were human. They were his friends. They needed their sleep, didn't they?

Besides, it wasn't as if they'd ever pestered him to go and meet _their_ family.

*

"It's your turn," said Wensleydale. The stock market was looking weak again and there was talk of a tax reform. On the upside, a baby panda had been born in the London zoo.

Brian frowned. The English national hockey team had been crushed yesterday. "I know it's my turn."

"It's Sunday," said Pepper. She'd made toast, which was not unusual. She hadn't yet eaten it, which was.

Wensleydale slowly and precisely folded the newspaper, so that it would be suitable for future use as either a not very good baseball bat or something for Dog to play with. "So it is."

"Oh." Brian's expression brightened. "Cartoons, after?"

The Them felt that cartoons were very nearly an art form - or at least the good ones were. The bad ones were heard about, but never seemed to show up on any channel the Them would select.

"Might as well," said Wensleydale.

They put the toast on a tray, along with coffee and tea and butter and marmalade and then they went to wake up Adam, who had to have been pretty worn out last night, to still be sleeping now -

"Prob'ly his new job," said Brian wisely.

"Sales assistant in a bookshop?" Pepper had enjoyed a brief career as a jet fighter pilot before switching to a career as a librarian.

"Cover story. I mean, come on."

*

Adam opened his eyes.

The sun rose. Outside, birds started to sing.

It was, he knew, going to be an absolutely _brilliant_ Sunday. Again.


End file.
